


Maintenance

by Rachrar



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: M/M, The "reader" character is a trans man, The Generic Intern in Membrane's fap fantasy, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 03:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20575994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachrar/pseuds/Rachrar
Summary: It had been --the professor paused to think, glancing to the calendar in his HUD-- three days since his last maintenance. Membrane huffed at himself. It was not like him to skip maintenance for that long. He had been busy, but there was no excuse. He needed to take care of himself.He was taking care of himself, he reasoned, mid shower with hand easing south. Fleshly desires being ignored made for pent up energies, creating restlessness and poor performance. So be it.





	Maintenance

**Author's Note:**

> Enter The Florpus really got me thinkin' about hot dad Membrane. I regret nothing.

Membrane pinched his nose, pushing his goggles up. The goggles pushed his cowlick back and he felt his hair tickle at his neck. Speaking of neck, as he readjusted the microscope, he realized that his neck was horribly stiff. He hadn’t noticed when he was so focused upon the minuscule circuit board before him, but now that he was moving more than his hands, the pain seized at his muscles and made him grimace.

Membrane stood, pushing back from the table and out of his chair, sighing as he felt his back pop in far more places than was entirely healthy. For all his talk about taking care of the human body to his children, he sure had a poor track record with his own. Letting out a breath of relief once the muscle seizure in his neck stopped, he pulled his goggles back down and checked the HUD for the time.

8pm. Fuck. He promised he would be home for dinner, and seeing as the children needed more than 8 hours of sleep for optimal growth, plus an hour or so of wind down time, not to mention the homework they surely had, Membrane was late. He tried to keep dinner on a consistent schedule, and while, yes, Foodio would be able to provide for the actual nutrition just fine, it would not provide for the family bonding, unfortunately.

At this point, he was late enough that rushing home to greet them would be useless. He would get perhaps a few words from Gaz before she retired for the night, and likely nothing from Dib as he researched yet another cryptid. Honestly, the boy should know better by now, with the lack of even the tiniest shred of proof, but, alas. He continued. 

Membrane, while feeling Dib’s desire to prove paranormal activity was foolish, was proud to know that Dib refused to compromise himself. It made life difficult, and he thought that Dib was wasting his time, but Dib was determined, and Membrane could respect that. That being said, it didn’t make it any less frustrating to watch Dib ignore all semblance of scientific explanations in favor of paranormal ones.

Membrane dropped back into his chair, rubbing at his forehead as he thought. It was too late to go home for any kind of interaction with the spawn, so he might as well stay at the lab. Nobody else was there, he had sent all the workers home at 6, telling them to balance work and life while he ignored his own. That, and he tended to work better alone anyway. The noise and chatter of others was distracting when he was trying to focus.

He wheeled back to the specimen he had been observing, putting his goggles to the eyepiece.

It took him approximately 3.47 seconds to realize that he was going to make no further headway now that his focus had been interrupted by such petty things as physical limitations and pain. He momentarily thought of replacing his spinal cord with electronics, but dismissed it. The work to do so would require another person to be in charge of the procedure, and he didn’t trust anyone else to modify his body quite like he trusted himself. 

He flexed his hands, the hydraulics hissing softly under the viton glove. He should probably check on his arms, it had been --the professor paused to think, glancing to the calendar in his HUD-- three days since his last maintenance.

Membrane huffed at himself. It was not like him to skip maintenance for that long. He had been busy, but there was no excuse. He needed to take care of himself-- without him, the lab would fall apart and his show would be canceled, and he couldn’t have either of those happen. He was a beacon of hope for the world. He needed to stay in the best shape he could. Membrane steadfastly refused to acknowledge his personal hypocrisy on self care for the flesh compared to his circuitry.

He stood, setting the specimens into the holding room, making sure it was organized properly and the temperatures were correct, then cleaned his space. It took just a few wipe downs with alcohol before it was done to his satisfaction. With that done, he could turn towards his arms.

First, a thorough cleaning was necessary. He headed down the hall and to the elevator, patting a sensor on the wall and lifting his goggles for the retinal scan before the elevator obediently took him towards his secondary home. He had a small living space set up for the times his work was particularly time sensitive and he couldn’t make it home, and he made his way there.

Once through the door’s security, an annoying, but necessary, thirty second ritual, he closed the door behind himself and felt his muscles relax. It felt safe, and he never really felt safe outside of his own security, and the security to this area was extra strong.

Membrane tugged his gloves off, flicking his arms a few times to get the phantom stiffness out of them before tossing the gloves into the dirty pile. His labcoat followed after, along with his goggles. He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling a little grime and grease stick to the metal, grimacing at the sensation. Yes, it had been far too long since he took some personal time.

He freed his feet from his boots, setting them against the wall neatly, tossing his socks with the other dirty laundry. Down to just his shirt and pants, the professor made his way to the shower room. While his home’s shower was no push over, it just didn’t have the same pressure that a specially built shower  _ room _ could offer, and he was looking forward to it.

He stripped in the shower room, kicking aside his last clothing and stepped into the small tiled room. The soft teal tile was soothing to his eyes, and he closed them as the shower started its programmed routine. A heavy thudding pressure on his back, a gentler spray from above, and Membrane groaned as the heat began to penetrate his skin.

He leaned a hand on the wall, letting his head fall forward and eyes close, just reveling in the sensations. Water dripped down his face and down his back, the tile cool against his palm.

This, this was peace. It was calming, grounding, and he felt more and more rejuvenated with every second that passed. He shook his head, feeling his hair splat against his skin, huffing in mild annoyance, slicking it back with the water. Eyes still closed, he reached out for the soap dispensing faucet, following the cord to the handheld head, tapping a button to begin the dispensing as he soaped himself up.

The water turned off upon the activation of the soap head, and when he released the soap dispenser, it did not turn back on. He grabbed the washcloth, taking his time and humming to himself softly as he cleaned himself from head to toe. He ignored his arms, those had their own cleaning routine, but his face felt slightly raw after he was done, satisfyingly so. 

He moved the cloth down to his neck, feeling prickling hair meet the cloth and tug as he cleansed himself. Sighing, making a mental note to shave, he moved down to his chest. His chest was hairy as well, but the length made it far softer. He breathed out as he rubbed his nipples, debating. A subconscious decision made his fingers pinch at one bud and he inhaled sharply.

He was taking care of himself, he reasoned. Fleshly desires being ignored made for pent up energies, creating restlessness and poor performance. So be it.

He took his time cleaning his chest, the slight roughness of the cloth against the skin making his breathing shallow slightly. Forcing his hands away from his chest, he moved to his belly. He was comfortable with the softness there, content with the pudge he had. The cloth hung down from his hand, brushing against his burgeoning erection and Membrane braced himself against the wall with his free hand, forehead against his forearm as he eased his way down his body, refusing to touch himself. 

Each teasing touch of the cloth over his cock made his muscles jump, adamant in his cleaning. He ignored the heated flesh, moving to his thighs and legs faster than he normally would have. By the time he was cleaning his feet, he tossed the cloth aside after a perfunctory wipe before slapping the shower back on. His skin felt blasted with heat, having cooled down in the interim, and he hissed at the feeling, back arching and going on tip of his toes.

He made sure no soap remained before grabbing the washcloth one more time. Knowing that taking his time made it all the sweeter, he wrung the cloth out before replacing it in its place on a hook. His half chub, still more soft than hard, twitched in excitement, as it meant the shower was nearly over.

Membrane turned the water off, shaking his head to get rid of the worst of the moisture, then pushed his hair back once more before stepping out into the bathroom from the shower room. He snagged a towel, rubbing his face and hair before his body. Perhaps he was a little overzealous in his drying of his thighs, so close to his dick, making sure not a drop remained, but he wouldn’t admit it was anything other than a thorough drying.

Once fully dry, he tossed the towel aside into a hamper, the electronics discarding it into the building’s laundry facility immediately. He tilted his head back and forth, hearing a few gentle pops, groaning faintly. He walked to the bedroom, the room impersonal and straightforward. There was a small closet with his lab wear and basic clothing necessities, no decorations, and a lack of furniture apart from the bed and a nightstand.

Membrane flopped onto the bed face first, nuzzling into the soft fabric and enjoying the feeling before turning over. So. He turned his attention, finally, to his erection. It promptly leaked a bead of precum, and he watched idly as the pre dribbled its way down his member, pooling near his balls. His cock was peeking out of the foreskin, shyly hopnig for more affection. Membrane reached into the drawer of the nightstand, grabbing out a pair of arm length gloves. Much like his lab wear, they were black, but made of a thinner material. He just cleaned himself off, he wasn’t going to deal with cum in the cords or grooves of his arms, dammit.

Once his arms and hands were properly covered, he grabbed some lube, pouring a bit on his hand before grasping himself. His hips jerked upwards as soon as he touched the hot cock, head falling backwards against the pillow and eyes slipping closed. His hand was slow, patiently working himself up.

He thought vaguely of the intern working at the lab, the one that started a few days before. What was his name…? It didn’t matter. He had a plush ass and an eager smile whenever he saw the professor, and Membrane needed no more.

Membrane imagined the young man’s nervous reaction to being pinned against the wall, unsure but enthusiastic when Membrane held his hands above his head. He seemed the type to moan easily and loudly, eyes fluttering shut as Membrane leaned down to the short man, nipping at his exposed neck and shoulder.

_ “P-Professor!” _ Membrane growled against that skin, biting a little harder, testing the reaction. From the way the boy always deferred to Membrane, always to his side and just behind, Membrane had a feeling the boy was submissive in bed, and his imagination needed no further prompting to make the intern into a whining bitch for the professor’s pleasure. The boy arched against Membrane, a leg rising to try and loop around Membrane, hips desperate for something to rub against.

Membrane licked the bite mark, releasing the intern. He barely caught himself, rubbing at the bitemark dazedly. Membrane’s imagination skipped the irrelevant inbetweens, getting the boy on his back on the bed that Membrane currently rested on, bare and open for his pleasure. 

Faint scars on his chest were visible below his nipples, and Membrane idly wondered which surgery version the intern had, the scars morphing in his mental image to the various configurations before settling on two long scars. They were irrelevant anyway, not when the real prize would be lower, between his legs. A warm, inviting cunt, a throbbing clit-dick begging for his attention, hips rolling into the air needily.

Membrane released himself, pausing the fantasy to grab his fleshlight, closing the drawer roughly before hitting play on his mental thoughts as he teased his tip with the toy, just as he would tease the intern. Make him beg, writhe and plead for the professor to slam in, fuck him raw and hard, but Membrane was patient.

He rubbed their cocks together, letting his length thrust past the smaller member again and again, waiting for the boy to lose his grasp on words. The little twitches in his thighs, the way his feet desperately curled around Membrane, trying to entice him in, and only when the intern broke into pleading, begging noises, incapable of more than sounds of need, did Membrane stuff him full in one sharp thrust.

Oh, the intern would  _ howl _ , Membrane was sure, slamming the fleshlight down hard and making little circles, breath coming short and sharp from his nose. He bent his knees to flatten his feet on the bed, thrusting hard upwards into the toy in the same vicious motions he’d use on the intern’s cunt.

Membrane grit his teeth as the intern wound around him, needing more,  _ harder, faster! _ and Membrane was pleased to meet those demands, a hand snaking under the boy’s arm to curl around his back, fingers tight on his shoulder. The angle and grip gave him perfect thrusting leverage, pulling the intern down as much as he was snapping his hips upwards.

Membrane panted as the intern babbled hoarsely  _ (“yes yes yes oh god please don’t stop--”) _ reaching between the two with one hand to rub along the little cock, encouraging him to fall apart. His cunt, already so tight, was vice like as his voice rose in pitch. Membrane activated the vibration in his thumb.

The intern would scream, buck against him hard enough that Membrane would flatten his hand on his pelvis, keeping his thumb on that sensitive dick as he thrust into him. The slapping of their skin as it met echoed in the room, even over the noises the intern was making, heady  _ schlops _ making Membrane’s head dizzy.

A thoughtless squeeze on the silicone toy he was using made Membrane’s real hips jerk, balls jumping and tightening.

_ “I’m-- I--!” _ The intern would warn, ever thinking of Membrane.

Membrane curled over the boy, mouth against his ear, nipping.  _ “I’m going to fuck you full of my cum,”  _ he growled.

Screechings of  _ “yes please, cum in me-- fill me--!” _ and Membrane rammed in one more time, hips jittering as he shoved in as deep as he could, cock throbbing as he came, the intern cumming around him, those velvet walls pulsing rhythmically, milking Membrane dry.

Membrane’s hand twitched, hips slowly falling to the bed as he dismissed the fantasy. Eyes opening slowly to look down, he removed the toy from himself, watching his cock plop against his skin, wet with his own release, the same cum dripping out of the toy.

Dammit. Now he needed to clean himself  _ again. _


End file.
